Human
by Gohanroxme
Summary: "Why not?" A question repetition, her luscious lips hardly moving. Ed was really tired of her twenty questions, the same frustration game they'd played for the past month. He clenched his fists. Because she was the bad guy, because she'd murdered people, because she was an abomination that reminded him of what they'd done to their mother, because... "Because you're a homunculus."


Human:

In which Lust asks Ed to make her 'a human.'

**Disclaimer: **_**Fullmetal Alchemist **_**doesn't belong to me. I just write about for fun . . . . **

"Make me a human."

The request was different than the other times for the past month that she'd materialized out of the darkness and asked it. It was less of a demand now, more of a soft question, something pitiful and indefinite lacing her words.

Edward turned, his metallic arm changing back from its sword-like form and swinging to his side.

"You again?"

She didn't reply, amethyst eyes lowered and her arms crossed, the light, night breeze fluttering her dark locks.

Ed studied her for a moment before sighing, "I'm not making you a human, Lust." He was tired of repeating that sentence, the same sentence he'd tell her every time she came to him, as if she'd appeared within thin air.

She seemed unlike the way she usually was, less cynical and provocative, but more . . . distressed . . . longing. As if something was bothering her.

"Why not?" Her voice was quiet, completely void of her typical, seductive sarcasm as she spoke the blunt question, eyes raising to meet his.

Ed noticed they were wistful, troubled and anguished and for some reason, it was uncomfortable to gaze into them because . . . it was like he saw something more than a homunculus in her, which startled him because that's all they were, right? Shells with souls that weren't their own. He didn't like to think that they were more than that. It made him feel guilty, in a way.

"Because . . ." Because what? Because she wasn't human? Because she'd tried to kill him? A good enough reason, but if he turned her human, he doubted she could extend her nails like that anymore. "Because I can't . . . you don't deserve it . . . ."

"Why not?" A question repetition, her luscious lips hardly moving.

Ed was really tired of her twenty questions, the same frustration game they'd played for the past month. He clenched his fists. Because she was the bad guy, because she'd murdered people, because she was an abomination that reminded him of what they'd done to their mother, because . . . .

"Because you're a homunculus."

Was he wrong for saying that? Was he wrong for stating what was factual? What it selfish of him?

No. _No_. It was true. After killing countless humans, she had the nerve to ask him to make her one? That was not how it worked at all and that was not how it was _going_ to work. She did not deserve to be a human, what with all of her sins.

He watched her step forward, a dark expression replacing her despondent one as her fingernails clicked together. "Is that my fault?"

He leapt backward, frowning, ready to transmute his arm if necessary. "Threatening me isn't helping your case here, Lust."

She glanced down, as if she hadn't even noticed her fingers elongating, and retracted them.

He nearly scoffed and glared at her. "How it this not your fault? You're a murderer who isn't worthy of to be one of us."

She held his gaze, crossing black-sleeved arms. "It's not like you humans don't kill each other off either . . . . You're just as corrupt as us homunculi."

He felt his face heat as he clenched his fists. "Don't you _dare_ compare us to you monsters! Humans aren't—!"

"I'm a monster, am I?" Her dark eyebrows furrowed as she moved yet nearer to him, the wind blowing her black curls to caress her cheeks. "But it's you humans and your taboos that made me this way, isn't it? Is this my fault? My fault that I don't wish to be what you made me?"

He blinked at her, thrown for a second, his mouth rendered speechless.

Her words had point, a sharp edge that clawed against his chest as he merely stared, taken aback. It was . . . slightly true. She hadn't made herself. It . . . it wasn't her fault that somebody had tried to bring her back to life. That hadn't been her actions . . . .

"Humans didn't make you a killer." He watched for a reaction, anything from her along the lines of shock or remorse, but it was only a wry, nearly wistful answer.

"Yes, Edward." Her mauve gaze pierced into his golden one, a stare that caused him to involuntarily stagger backward with the intensity of her eyes. "They did."

He clenched his jaw, swallowing thickly. Perhaps . . . maybe she was talking about her master? The Lord of the Homunculi?

"Lust, tell me who your master is," He insisted, stepping closer again. "I need to know."

She smirked, flashing him that smile he was used to, the one that annoyed him to no end, that caused an invisible heating in his cheeks. "I thought I already told you . . . I might just enlighten you if you make me a human."

He frowned at her, eyeing her sharply. "I guess you'll just keep what you know a secret then."

She blinked, her expression faltering. "I guess so . . . ."

Was it wrong of a human to feel pity for a fiend like her? Was it? Because suddenly, with the unsure way that she was standing, biting her lower lip, she looked considerably younger than he knew she was. She looked almost . . . dare he say it . . . human.

Human.

So he told her the truth: "Alchemy can't change you into a human, Lust. You're a homunculus and I'm human. I know now that the term 'a human' is rather . . . overrated when new beings are always being formed." He stuck his hands in his pants pocket to dig for his watch. "We should now be saying 'human,' you know. I'm human. Because what is _a_ human, really?"

She merely blinked slowly at him, so he explained some more,

"Not my brother, I'm sure, because a human is not made of metal. _A_ human should be able to feel. _A_ human should be able to cry tears, to eat, to drink." He swallowed thickly; talking about Al only made him remember, recall what they'd done. "No. Al is human. Inside the suit of armor, he's human. He still has emotions, still has memories, still is my brother. He still is _human_."

He glared up at her, scuffing the front of his boot indignantly into the dirt. "So do you see, Lust? Alchemy can't just give you feelings, can't give you recollections, or even, I dunno, a _life_. Because . . . don't you already have all that? Didn't you tell me?"

She appeared taken aback with that, inhaling sharply.

"Yeah. You can be human off of your own accord. If anything," he winced, forcing it out, "you're human now."

He saw it then: the surprised fluttering of dark eyelashes, the relief in her heavy gaze, the small lift in one corner of her mouth.

And before he could say anything else, she was gone as swiftly as she had shown up, but not before murmuring, _"I thank you, Fullmetal Alchemist . . . for making me human."_


End file.
